


Sick And Tired Of Being Alone

by Written_On_The_Trees



Category: Palaye Royale (Band)
Genre: (I can't write sad endings oops), Drug Use, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Music, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Specifically Lonely, inspired by a song, so it's a bit dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27803722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Written_On_The_Trees/pseuds/Written_On_The_Trees
Summary: Rose and Remington used to be friends...they're not anymore, but that doesn't mean Rose doesn't watch out for her old friend when she can, even if he doesn't acknowledge her when she does. At least, he doesn't normally.
Relationships: Remington Leith/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Sick And Tired Of Being Alone

**Author's Note:**

> So...I actually wrote this back in March when the music video for Lonely came out, but I’ve never posted it before now because I’ve never quite been happy with it...however, I started a new job last week, and it has made me to exhausted to care about all the things I’m not happy with about this, so I posted it on my Palaye Royale side-blog on Tumblr and now I'm posting it here too, because I'm too tired to over-think it.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Specific warnings for unexplicit drug use, mentions of child neglect, and an unflattering portrayal of Emerson and Sebastian _(I love them really but they weren't exactly helpful in the music video)_.

Rose looked out of her bedroom window, intending to just take a thirty second break from her homework, only to sigh.

  
  
  


_This isn’t going to be a thirty second break._

  
  
  


Pushing her chair back from her desk, Rose pulled her jacket from the back of it hurried downstairs, calling out to her mum that she’d be back in a bit and not waiting for a response, just slamming the door behind her before jogging off the catch up with the staggering, stumbling figure she’d seen from her bedroom window.

It didn’t take long to catch up with Remington - whatever pills he took to get like this, they really did make him slow and unsteady on his feet. Predictable, too: even though he’d rounded a corner between passing her window and when she made it out the house, Rose knew where he was headed, and she caught up to him in no time...not that he noticed her falling into step beside him. He barely looked at her: his eyes flicking in her direction for a second and then glossing over her like she wasn’t really there, but she was used to that by now. They didn’t really speak even when Remington was feeling at his best...he really wasn’t up to speaking to her when he was in this state.

  
  
  


_When he’s at his worst._

  
  
  


Still, she kept pace next to him, making sure he didn’t step in front of a car, or fall flat on his face, or have anyone try and pull any shit because he wasn’t exactly...present when he was under the influence. Not enough to prevent him from getting hurt, and certainly not enough to hold a conversation.

In the end, Rose didn’t mind that they didn’t speak. It was clear Remington wasn’t up for it, and even if he had been, she wasn’t here for conversation; she just wanted to make sure the boy she used to be best friends with was as okay as he could be. Sure, it hurt a little bit to be ignored like she was, but Remington hurt a lot more than Rose did.

Usually because of the very people he was now stumbling towards.

Rose glared at Sebastian and Emerson and their little gang gathered around Sebastian’s bright red car, shutting Remington’s brothers up before they could say a single word, and before their girlfriends or any of the rest of their little ‘council’ got any bright ideas. She steered Remington past them easily enough; he wasn’t aiming for them anyway, they were just in his way. She leant into the side of him closest to the other Kropp brothers, and Remington veered away from her - and, at the same time, them. He didn’t even look at them, just continued on his shaky path towards the bleachers that overlooked the school football pitch, and Rose ignored the pang in her chest that his flinch had caused her to focus on following him on this familiar journey. 

As always, Remington rounded the bleachers and fell to his knees, crawling into the shadows underneath them. And, as always, Rose sighed and followed him into the dark, even though she despised it.

  
  
  


_Doesn’t matter how much I hate it; I made a promise._

  
  
  


She’d sworn to Remington that she’d never abandon him.

Admittedly, the promise was almost a decade old now, and Remington wouldn’t let her near enough to keep it when he was sober, but it _was_ still a promise. Rose had vowed to her best friend that she would never leave him alone, and even if they weren’t friends anymore, that didn’t mean the promise didn’t matter, especially not after what had happened to Remington. It might make her almost as much of a ‘freak’ as him, in a lot of their peers’ eyes, but if they couldn’t see that he needed someone, then they were blind, or heartless.

Or, in the case of Remington’s brothers, both.

Especially Emerson.

Unlike Sebastian, who had the good sense to be warned off by Rose’s glares, Emerson had never been so easily deterred, and Rose wasn’t surprised when she saw Emerson’s patented sunglasses appear around the corner of the bleachers.

Unsurprised, but also unhappy.

Rose glared, turning her body to face Emerson and crossing her arms over her chest to wait for him to get on with it. His opening barbs never took long; he enjoyed poking at Remington too much.

  
  
  


“So, what has the car crash taken tonight?”

“Not as much as you, I’d bet.” Rose shot back, shifting to continue blocking Emerson’s view of Remington when the little shit tried to look round her: “Using those sunglasses to hide anything, Emerson?”

“I’m not the one who’s basically catatonic here, _petal_.” Emerson sneered, deliberately using the old nickname he knew Rose hated, because he was an arrogant bastard like that.

  
  
  


Rose should know; once upon a time, she’d been friends with _all_ the Kropp brothers.

Okay, she’d punched Sebastian when he tried to steal some of her Halloween candy the first time she’d gone round to their house to play with Remington, who was her age and had been her best friend in class, but the Kropp brothers were always fighting each other. To him, her violent outburst had just marked her as one of the boys...one who he couldn’t kick in the balls to get away from if he had to, but one who could do it to him, and who owned sharp little elbows that had made her the top of his _‘don’t fight’_ list. Emerson had been too little for her to fight with, even if that never stopped Sebastian or Remington, and even if he hadn’t been, he had been so enamoured with her Rose had never wanted to punch him like she had often wanted to punch Sebastian.

Emerson had liked her so much that he’d wanted a ‘special name’ for her that only he was allowed to use. And first, him calling her ‘petal’ had made Rose feel like the Disney Princess Emerson had seen her as…

...These days it really made her see why his brothers used to slap him around so much. The cocky little shit.

  
  
  


“You are the one being an annoying little twat, though.” Rose countered, not skipping a beat despite her nostalgic thoughts: “So why don’t you fuck off?”

“Sure thing, as soon as you come with me.”

“Not this again, Emerson.” Rose rolled her eyes.

Despite her obvious irritation, the look Emerson gave Rose when he took his sunglasses off was completely sincere: “He doesn’t deserve you, Rose. We all know that. _You_ know that.”

  
  
  


_And_ this _is why it’s always hard with the Kropp brothers._

  
  
  


Sebastian and Emerson may despise their brother, thanks to their father and his poisonous words, but they had never stopped liking Rose. Sebastian still saw her as that little sister who would floor him if he tried to fight her, and Emerson still saw her as a Disney Princess. She had the sketch of her with twisted horns and feathered wings from last Christmas to prove it, because Maleficent was Emerson’s favourite Disney Princess, even if no-one else acknowledged her Princess status.

Both Sebastian and Emerson had made it clear that she was their friend, even if they weren’t hers, and that went a long way in their school. Even if people thought her strange for her...whatever they thought it was with Remington, no-one ever picked on her for it. Or anything else.

It really was a kind gesture on their part, and it broke Rose’s heart, because she couldn’t understand why they were nice to her and so cruel to Remington. They extended their ‘acceptance’ to her, and sent her Christmas and birthday presents every year, but they didn’t extend any of those courtesies to Remington: their own brother. Him, they would insult and deride and ignore, and it made her remember why she needed to keep them away, and Remington close.

Remington had no-one. No friends, no family, nothing. His mother didn’t acknowledge he was even alive, his dad had abused him for years before he left with Sebastian and Emerson, and managed to poison them both against Remington as much as he did. With them leading the charge against Remington, he had plenty of people in their town willing to pick on him, and no-one to defend him, except for Rose - and even that was only when he let her, which meant the little bit of the time she could so anything to shield him from the vitriol so many people seemed to have towards him, she had to take advantage of.

  
  
  


“I don’t want to have this discussion with you again, Emerson.” Rose sighed: “We’ve both said everything we have to say.”

“That was before he nearly got you hit by a car!”

Rose winced - that had been a particularly bad night...but she didn’t blame Remington for them nearly getting run over: “You mean the time I was pulling him out of the road before either of us could get hit by your father’s car? Because really the only one to blame there is your step-mum’s terrible driving.”

Emerson ignored her jab at his step-mum, probably because he didn’t much like the woman, and because this self-appointed mission to talk her out of being friends with Remington was more important to him: “You could’ve _died_ ! Because of _him_!”

“He could’ve died, if I wasn’t there.”

“And?”

  
  
  


Rose slumped.

What was she supposed to say to that?

Emerson genuinely didn’t care that Remington could’ve died, not when he could’ve taken Rose with him. He would rather his brother got fatally hit by a car than risk Rose nearly getting hit by one too. It was heartbreaking...but there was nothing she could do to change his mind. She knew there wasn’t; she’d tried before, and failed miserably.

  
  
  


She didn’t have the energy to try again: “Just leave it, Emerson, and leave us alone.”

“Whatever, petal. Stay with the freak.” Emerson shook his head: “He’ll teach you that he’s not worth the effort soon enough, just like he’s shown everyone else”

  
  
  


He whirled and stormed off, leaving Rose alone to turn round to once again focus on keeping an eye on Remington...who was now looking at her with something that almost, _almost_ looked like clarity in his eyes.

She froze in place as, slowly, he inched towards Rose, until he was kneeling in the dirt in front of where she was crouched, until he could lean in and rest his forehead against the junction of her neck and shoulder.

Rose stayed stock still for a few seconds, then gradually relaxed. She didn’t try and touch Remington - even though she was relaxed now, she could see that he was still as tense and anxious, and she got the sense that if she tried to push for more contact then he’d bolt. So she didn’t push, she just allowed him to lean against her until he’d had enough and he pulled back to sit and stare vacantly into the space over her right shoulder.

It was like she didn’t exist - like she had never even been here.

Just like normal.

And just like normal, Remington started muttering to himself, words that Rose couldn’t always make out. Sometimes she’d catch a snippet of what he was saying, but most of the time it was just a low mumbling that formed a backdrop to their pair of them sitting there in the shadows under the bleachers, Remington lost to his high, and Rose just waiting until he came down enough for her to shepherd him home. And if that rambling was any indication, that point was a little while away yet - because it was bad tonight.

Bad, and getting louder:

  
  
  


“...My life don't mean that much to me...but I’m too lazy for suicide, so I just watch the days pass, hoping to die...” he shuddered - from cold, or from the pills, Rose didn’t know - and started to rock back and forth where he was sitting: “...I'm waiting for my time to start as I waste it - as I waste it - and so I pop the pills to waste some time as I'm faded - I'm faded...This shit messes with my head...”

  
  
  


Rose let him talk, because there was nothing else she could do.

He never responded to her if she responded to him; he never even seemed to hear her: if she tried to speak to him he just carried on like she hadn’t made a sound. All Rose could do was listen, and try not to take anything he said to heart. She’d never know what he was talking about, since she never got to speak to him when he wasn’t high, and she’d drive herself crazy trying to work about the meaning of what he was saying. Even if she felt the not knowing was also driving her crazy.

There was nothing she could do but wait out Remington’s high. Even after the lights illuminating the football field went out and she started shivering from the cold.

Remington didn’t look her way once.

But eventually his words started to slow down, and the haziness started to leave his eyes. He took one look at Rose, the space around them lit by the light of her phone torch, and flinched back before scrambling to his feet. Rose tried not to take the disgust to heart _(and failed miserably)_ and stumbled to her feet herself so that she could make sure that he got home safely. He still wouldn’t look at her, not even out of the corner of his eye, but Rose swallowed her pleas to just look at her, Remington, please and followed him back towards their neighbourhood, silently lighting his way with her phone just like she always did after he started coming down.

Neither of them said a word until they got to the end of his driveway, and Rose turned to head back towards her own house at the other end of the street, when a hand reached out to grab onto her wrist.

  
  
  


She looked up, only to see Remington stare at her pleadingly: “Stay? For a bit, Please? I...I’m sick and tired of being alone.”

  
  
  


Rose didn’t need to think about it.

The desperate look in Remington’s eyes was enough to make the decision for her, and even if it wasn’t, Rose knew she would never abandon him after he had been brave enough - _or miserable enough_ \- to reach out to her.

  
  
  


So she nodded - and smiled: “Of course.”


End file.
